leylah
(#86622656)
golden flame, true purity
kjeil
Coppercoil Creeper
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Fire.
Female Nocturne
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.08 m
Wingspan
7.84 m
Weight
655 kg
Genetics
Bronze
Starmap
Starmap
Gold
Sarcophagus
Sarcophagus
Marigold
Filigree
Filigree
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Nocturne
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
7
QCK
6
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
7
Biography
| xxx |
the sky is dark tonight. nyarlathotep is on guard, and she is a great guard, so it's a bit of a struggle to sneak away. still, leylah manages, despite never being the best at stealth. they're near the border with the domain of the arcanist now, and the sweet scent of the starwood filters over, mingling with the salt of the sea and the sour rot-scent of the giant fungi overhead. there are quiet jingles now and again, like the chalcedony is speaking. during a louder one of these jingles, she escapes. she makes it out of sight and earshot of the towering gaoler on guard, and flaps her way into the air, hissing through her teeth as the sound of her wingbeats tears through the night. but seconds pass, and no indigo-furred giant comes running, so she rises higher into the night, where the breeze hits her. it's colder than she's used to. the ashfall wastes are always warm, with the lifeblood magma soaking through every inch of the land. the scarred wasteland is similarly so, decay producing heat that shimmers into a desert in the center. even dragonhome, in the small southern town she'd been to, had been warmed by the sun and the huge fires the occupants set to honour the visitors. the starfall isles, in comparison, border the southern icefield and the deep ocean beyond sornieth. the western breeze that tugs at leylah's wings is salty, with hints of frost. the stars glimmer coolly, the celestial guts of the universe splayed brightly across the sky the closer they get to the epicentre of the arcane. she misses home. the burning ash in the air, the veins of lava in the ground that glow day and night. it's hard to get lost, when you have the veins leading the way. the deeper-cut rivers and pools of lava are safe to nap beside, enjoying the free and unburdened warmth they provide. there's also the attitudes of strangers. fire-born dragons don't lie to you, even when they don't know you. they all have the same lava-veins in their memories, reminding them that it's better to be real with others, so you can be as pure as the sparks of the flamecaller. outside the wastes, everyone has their secrets, and everyone hides behind masks. it's sickening, and leylah misses her fiery home. she has to remind herself it's a blessing, that she gets to travel like this. not everyone has this chance. she catches a gentle thermal vent in an empty clearing, where the giant fungi have created a clean circle of flat dirt, and spirals higher into the air. from here, she can glide over where the rest of her travelling group is resting, too far up to be detected. if she squints, she can see them... nyarlathotep is stretching, the crystalline accents on her fur catching the tiny specks of light cast by the stars. she's the largest in the group, and free with her secrets: according to her, she's a "super famous fancy type of gaoler, you know", and is on some kind of a mission to hunt evil monsters. leylah likes her: she's hardworking and honest. her eyes are better-suited to orange than their current blood-red. nearby, splayed out across the ground, is a multicoloured blob that is pluto, their veilspun tag-along. he shimmers with magic, but he's young: around a campfire one night, he'd admitted that he doesn't really know what direction to take with it yet. leylah can respect that. she's sure when he figures it out, he'll be very powerful. until then, his eagerness brightens the long days of travelling. behind nyarlathotep, the winding shape of celastri ribbons across the ground in the shade of a fungus. the pale green imperial is a bit of a special case; he's young, like pluto is, but not at all like him otherwise. quiet, a little anxious, and... ugh, secretive. leylah can't fault him: he's from the water flight, after all, and everyone knows those fools have all too many secrets. she just wishes she knew why he's travelling with them. flamecaller knows he might not be someone to trust! finally, curled up in a fragile ball, loughran shivers in his sleep, his silvery scales catching the light. what an odd, irritating dragon. it's obvious he's ill, or suffering from something: he coughs often, hoarse rasping breaths as he trudges along. his wings tremble; he keeps his pearl completely hidden, but leylah has caught glimpses of it. it's a dark, menacing grey colour. and yet he never mentions it. he deflects all questions, denies being sick. it makes fire burn inside leylah's claws, rage flowing through her blood. not only is he a liar, but he's holding the whole group back. if he admitted it, they'd be able to help him. stubborn. and stupid. by now she's been flying in the air over the others for a while, looping in slow circles. the cold air under her wings is beginning to feel nice instead of abrasive. flying is something most fire-born dragons don't do much; the ash and smoke in the air is too thick to explore the skies. it was a nice surprise to leave her home and discover the world's clean skies. they're almost at the isles now, and celastri seems to have cheered up significantly, though he still doesn't mention why. ugh. leylah casts her gaze west, to the huge chalcedony mountains visible through the darkness. secrets... |
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Exalting leylah to the service of the Plaguebringer will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
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